Natty Bumppo in Maudslay Park

Seven bluejays open up a clearing
In the forest chirping like so many
Rusty hinges. Leaving fiddleheads that
Play romantic notions far behind him,
He continues, chapter, verse, and word of
Mouth. Once-famous snakes descend beneath dead
Leaves, no longer leading characters. Wind
Blows above the swaying pine trees drowning
Out the interstate. The ferry road once
Bordered this estate; the river crossing
Waits now unattended by the ferry.
Only water passes to the other
Shoreline. Listen to the church bells ringing
Over there: eleven shallow sirens.



copyright 2001 Gregory Perry